


Charcoal in Motion

by katikat



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-07
Updated: 2010-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-08 18:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal's the resident romantic and Peter needs his help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charcoal in Motion

There was a knock on the door.

Neal peered blearily at the alarm clock on his bedside table. 11pm. He'd gone to bed early that evening after he fell asleep three times reading one of the files Peter gave him as homework. There was another knock and Neal groaned out loud.

Throwing his comforter aside, he got up and padded over to the door on bare feet, dressed just in his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. On the way, he slapped the lights on. He opened the door, leaning heavily against it and blinked drowsily at the person disturbing his sleep.

Peter. Of course.

"I need your help!" Peter said, a haunted, desperate expression on his face. Without waiting for Neal to say anything, he barreled inside.

"Huh." Neal turned around, closed the door and ran his hand through his hair. "What's up?"

"It's El's birthday tomorrow!" Peter said as if it explained everything.

And maybe it did, but Neal was slightly slow on the uptake at the moment, so it took him a few seconds to put the puzzle pieces together. "Oh, and you forgot," he guessed.

"No!" Peter exclaimed immediately, but when Neal raised his eyebrows, he continued more slowly. "Well, yes. I mean, I didn't forget when my wife's birthday is, I just forgot that it's tomorrow," he explained lamely.

"And what do you want me to do about it?" Neal asked suspiciously.

"I... I don't know," Peter admitted, throwing his hands up in defeat. "It's 11pm and I don't have a birthday present for my wife. But you're... You're the resident, you know, romantic here. Help me!"

Neal sighed. He wanted to refuse, he really did, he wanted to go to bed and sleep, but looking at Peter, at his desperate yet hopeful expression... If he told him no, he would feel as if he kicked a puppy. A sick puppy. A sick puppy with only three legs.

Neal hung his head. "Fine, I... I might have an idea, but coffee first!" he said, shuffling towards his kitchenette.

Ten minutes later, Neal made himself comfortable on the couch, bare feet up on the coffee table. There was a sketch pad lying on his bent knees, a sheet of thick handmade paper clipped to it, a full coffee mug on the table on his left side and a box of charcoals on the cushions on his right - he was all set.

"You want to draw my wife a picture," Peter said doubtfully from the other side of the couch.

Neal frowned at him. "You know what they say about gift horses and their mouths."

Peter lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. What picture?"

Neal selected a charcoal, the little piece smudging the tips of his fingers black immediately. "A portrait."

"A portrait?" Peter asked in surprise. "But you don't have a photo of her." Then he narrowed his eyes. "You don't have a photo of her, right?"

Neal frowned at him again. "No. I don't have a photo of her. Not a stalker like some of us!" he added pointedly.

Peter had the grace to look bashful.

"But I do have good memory. I'll try to draw her the way you see her."

Peter looked at him curiously. "And how do I see her?"

Neal smiled. "The way I see Kate - as the most beautiful woman on earth."

Peter tilted his head slightly, smiling. "Yeah... Can I watch?"

There was a mischievous glint in Neal's eyes. "Why? Are you afraid I'll draw her naked?"

Peter frowned. "You wouldn't." Then he narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't, would you?"

Neal gave him an innocent look.

"You would!" Peter exclaimed. "Don't!"

"Prude!"

"I'm not prude, but it's my wife we're talking about, thank you very much." Peter glared at him.

Neal grinned. "Okay, no naked pictures of your wife. Got it!"

And then he started to draw...

*-*-*-*

Peter had to admit that it was one of the most amazing things he had ever seen.

The charcoal danced across the sheet, Neal's nimble fingers never hesitant in their moves. Just a few lines and there, El's face - first blank, then smiling, eyes laughing and crinkling at the corners. Head thrown back and hair messy. Shoulders and... Was it Peter's shirt? Yes, the old one El liked to wear around the house. Folds and folds. Then arms and legs and feet, naked, bare. She was sitting on a chair, one of their dining room chairs. And in the background, just a hint of their living room...

Peter watched as the picture gained life - watched Neal give it life. He realized how peaceful, almost serene Neal looked and for a moment he wondered what Neal's life would have been like, if he had never become a criminal, if this was his world, the world of art and creation.

It took Neal barely an hour to finish El's picture and it was breathtaking.

Peter told him as much. Neal grinned and Peter could have sworn that Neal actually blushed.

Then Neal cleared his throat to hide his emotions and stood up, setting the drawing pad aside. "I'll give you a frame for it, because I know you," he pointed at Peter with his smudged finger, "you have no respect for art!"

With a grin Peter watched Neal go and wash his hands. Then his eyes sought out El's picture again. Neal was right, that was exactly how he saw El, as the most beautiful, most amazing woman on earth. Somehow, Neal managed to capture her heart on paper.

When Neal returned, he had a simple glass frame in his hands and he clipped the picture between the two panels. "It's June's but I'm sure she wouldn't mind lending it to you. If Elizabeth likes it, I'll take it to a friend of mine and let him frame it properly," he promised.

Peter stood up, still smiling. "I'm sure she'll like it," he assured Neal when he took the framed picture from Neal's hands. He looked at it again, then back at Neal. "Thank you," he said softly. "You don't know what this means to me."

Neal smiled too. "I think I do." Then he raised his hands and made a shooing motion. "Now out. Out! I need my beauty sleep!"

Peter grinned and he didn't stop grinning all the way home.

*-*-*-*

Elizabeth loved the picture.

The End


End file.
